


Sex on the Beach

by VirginiasWolf



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: But Richard doesn't really mind, Camille is a bit wanton, Cunnilingus, F/M, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 19:10:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20140537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirginiasWolf/pseuds/VirginiasWolf
Summary: The title is rather self-explanatory, and no it isn't about the cocktail.





	Sex on the Beach

**Author's Note:**

> Because we all secretly want to see Richard making wild love with someone on the beach, just not Megan Talbot. An air mattress is involved though, so there is no unhygienic sand in weird places.

Richard Poole can't believe it. His crazy but admittedly exhilarating girlfriend has actually purchased an air mattress so that they can fulfill her fantasy of making love on the beach without falling victim to his, extremely logical, fear of sand in frankly uncomfortable places. He still honestly isn't sure why this particular activity is even on her bucket list, and wonders if perhaps it hadn't even been there before that tease she'd made to him back during the Megan Talbot case, but if there is any phrase to describe his current condition, it is madly in love and love unfortunately tends to make you a little irrational, so if Camille Bordey wants to be made love to on a technically public beach, then that was exactly what she will get.

  
Camille has apparently covered the air mattress with a rather nice looking sheet, which makes him question what exactly is the appeal to her of lovemaking on the beach if she wants it to feel like they are actually in a bed.

  
Still, she is waiting for him, sitting on the mattress, looking so beautiful in a tight black dress that his heart rate is surely soaring into dangerous levels.

  
He is still trying to steel his nerves as he walks over to the mattress and it must show on his face because Camille immediately begins giggling. "Nervous?"

  
There's no point in trying to lie to her, so as he reaches the mattress, he admits the truth. "A little bit."

  
"Mhmm, I don't think that's going to last for long." Her mouth captures his, and as he kisses her back, he quickly realizes she is right.

  
Nervousness has already been covered by exhilaration. Although this act is technically bad in so many ways, it feels good in so many more. He is as hungry and lustful as she is, and he wastes no time lowering her to the mattress. In the heat of the moment, he begins grinding against her, an act which she shows her enjoyment of with multiple loud moans and some dirty French words, but he already knows this won't be enough for either of them and so he pulls away from her.

  
"Camille, I...we," he's too awkward to just tell her that he wants them to be naked, but luckily she seems to be on the same train of thoughts.

  
"There's too much clothing between us."

  
They begin to strip each other, tossing clothing haphazardly onto the sand, something he knows he will hate later, but now is not the time to care.

  
His mouth travels first along her jawline and then down her neck and to her breasts where he pauses to suck at her nipples; an act which she seems to enjoy even more than the clothed grinding, as the language grows even more colorful.

  
"I want you to eat me out," she moans. It's an act he was already intending to do, but she seems to have grown impatient, and so his mouth travels again, soon arriving at her clitoris.

  
He makes sure to apply just the right amount of pressure as he sucks at her, probing inside her entrance with his tongue and she continues to vocalize her pleasure while gripping at his hair with one hand. It's a bit of an aggressive touch, but he refuses to deny her exactly what she wants.

  
Soon, her hips buckle and she lets out another, even louder, cry as her grip on his hair loosens, and he knows he has her exactly where he wants her to be. Normally, he'd try to prolong her orgasm until she was almost shaky, but this time she doesn't allow that.

  
Still, somewhat aggressive, she grabs him and pulls him up to kiss her before reaching a hand between his legs and guiding him towards her entrance. She's being incredibly wanton, but he realizes that the technical publicness of their location must be on her mind too, and although she has no problems with vocalizing her enjoyment, she also wants to make sure they won't be caught unfinished.

  
"You're being awful greedy," he can't help but tease.

  
"Oh shut up. You want it too," she growls in response, and he knows she is completely right.

  
He thrusts inside of her and she throws her legs over his, further melding their bodies together. His pace is fast, but not so fast that they aren't both enjoying it. This time, although he is crying out too, they muffle each other's cries with their mouths; exchanging kisses that are as hungry and passionate as everything else about the act.

  
Soon, she is close to reaching her second orgasm, and him his first. They manage to climax in unison, riding the joint wave of pleasure until their bodies sag against each other on the mattress.

  
He removes himself from her and rolls over so that she can lie on his chest as their heart rates return to normal. It really is a lovely sunset tonight, he can't help but think. Not the way he normally would have thought to watch it, but something about the afterglow seems to heighten the beauty of the colors painted across the sky over the ocean.

  
Suddenly though, Camille sits up with an expression of alarm painted across her face. "Richard! Voices!"

  
In that moment he hears them too. They're still a ways down the beach, and thankfully don't sound familiar, but they seem to be fast approaching the location of the mattress.

So fast in fact that there's only time for a mad dash across the sand and back to the beach shack while still completely nude.

  
Safely hidden just inside the doors to the shack, Richard and Camille watch as a youngish couple approach, both developing expressions of horror as they immediately comprehend the meaning of the mattress and the clothes strewn across the sand.

  
"The locals are bloody crazy. Must be French, the English would never do something like this," the woman grumbles.

  
Inside the shack, Richard only barely manages to stifle the giggle that Camille lets out at the comment. The last thing he wants is for the strangers to realize that they're being watched by the bloody crazy local couple who had just made love to each other on the beach and that one of them is in fact English.

  
After all, an English man would never do something so crazy. Unless of course he's fallen in love with a French woman, who occasionally leads him to temporary bouts of insanity. Insanity that he hopes never stops.


End file.
